Sudden laughter gleamed in his eyes. “I wish I’d been one of them.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and frowned up at him. “Please leave, my lord.”
De Gray reached out to straighten a tiny fold of the green gauze at her bodice. The touch was light but intimate, making her heart quicken uncontrollably. “I hope you’re not afraid of me.”
“Certainly not,” she managed to say, yearning to move away from him but determined to stand her ground. “I’m angry with you.”
The touch of playful laughter remained in his eyes. “You’ll be even angrier in a moment.”
“Why—” She was astonished as she was suddenly caught in his steely arms, her hands trapped between their bodies. Inhaling sharply, she began to cry out, but his mouth was on hers in a hot crush of sensation. She twisted and struggled, but his hold was inescapable. Her head bent back, and a silken lock of her hair slid from the upsweep of curls, falling over her face. A hairpin or two dropped to the carpeted floor. De Gray paused, loosening the pressure of his arms, and he brushed the curl back behind her ear. Lidian stared up at him in shock. “Let me go,” she whispered.
His face was suddenly austere, his green eyes veiled by gold lashes. His hand slid behind her neck and gripped tightly while his mouth returned to hers. A chord of denial shot through her—no, she belonged to Chance, she would feel nothing for anyone else—but there were no more thoughts as she became a willing prisoner while he possessed her mouth with gently devouring kisses. When he finally lifted his head, she was barely able to stand on her own.
The last man to kiss her had been Chance, and now this stranger had erased that sweet memory. She stared at him while the breath rushed hard in her lungs and her legs trembled beneath her. Although she expected to see insolent triumph on his face, there was nothing except a flash of confusion that seemed to mirror her own.
“Miss Acland—”
Lidian lashed out and felt her palm connect with his cheek. Had she the strength, she would have slapped him harder. The blow caused her hand to sting. She turned away in an effort to flee, but De Gray reached out and caught her wrist. Slowly he brought her stiff hand to his face, and he pressed his mouth to her reddened palm. His lips were hot against her skin.
Stunned by the gesture, Lidian stood there with her hand held stiff in his grip. It was now a secret that bound them, this kiss…a memory that must be put away and ignored. The feelings it had aroused would be denied for the rest of her life. She had betrayed Chance, responding this way to a stranger. She was both astonished and ashamed by her own behavior.
His clear eyes held hers as he spoke quietly. “You will forget him, Miss Acland. I’ll make certain of that.”
Lidian wrenched free of him and stumbled slightly in her haste to leave the room. A quick fumble at the door handle, and then the paneled door swung open, allowing her to escape.
A few days later, the memory of the kiss at the Willoughbys’ ball still tormented Lidian. She couldn’t stop thinking about Lord De Gray, his mouth on hers, the way he had crushed her against his body. She dreamed about him kissing her again and again while she struggled against him in pleasure and shame. Even worse, her dreams of Chance had faded until she could scarcely remember what he looked like. The image of Chance’s dark eyes had been replaced by gray-green ones, and his charming quips were supplanted by the memory of how De Gray had kissed her hand after she had slapped him.
Naturally she hadn’t told her mother what had happened—she was too ashamed of herself. Proper young women didn’t behave this way, allowing a man she barely knew to take liberties with her. Besides, it would only fuel Elizabeth’s determination to find a match for her. Elizabeth was busy making arrangements for them to live in London for the rest of the season, in spite of her daughter’s objections.
Chance, you’ve stayed away too long, Lidian thought wretchedly, laying her head on the cluttered surface of her desk. Why did you ask me to wait, and then disappear? You must come for me soon. She didn’t know if she could be strong in the face of her mother’s insistence and her own weakness. She was lonely and all too vulnerable to temptation.
“Lidian!” Elizabeth burst into the library, her face flushed and her breathing alarmingly rapid. She raised a letter clutched in her fist and gestured with it in a jerky movement. “You won’t believe it—read for yourself—”
“What is it?” Lidian asked in concern, rushing to her. “Bad news?”
“No, no, quite the opposite!” Wildly excited, Elizabeth thrust the letter into her hands.
Lidian took the paper and bent over it, reading rapidly. After the first paragraph, she stopped and looked at her mother dazedly. “It’s from the Countess De Gray.”
“Yes, it’s a reply to a letter I sent last week. Go on, read it!”
Dearest Lizzie,
I would like to spare you the trouble of letting a house in London. It is hardly necessary when there are so many extra rooms at De Gray House. I hope you and your daughter will do me the very great favor of coming to stay with my family. It is my conviction that Dollie will greatly enjoy Lidian’s companionship, and hopefully the reverse will be true as well!
The household consists of Edgar and myself, Dollie, and Edgar’s brother Carrett, who has stayed with us for the past two years, ever since his wife died. I believe it would benefit him, as well as the rest of us, to have two new faces to enliven our situation. I confess, I am also asking for my own selfish reasons. I would dearly love the comfort of a cherished friend who could reminisce with me about earlier, happier days, when your dear husband and my beloved son Edward were still alive. They are still young and vibrant in our memories, aren’t they? Please say you’ll come Lizzie…
Lidian stopped reading and set aside the letter. She spoke in a firm voice. “I can’t, Mama. You must do what you think is best, but I won’t go.”
“Yes, you will,” Elizabeth said, turning steely. “I won’t have you buried out here when there is an opportunity to go to all the finest balls and parties of the season, and meet every eligible man in London—”
“And what better way to become acquainted with Lord De Gray than to stay with his parents and sister?” Lidian asked sarcastically. “I have no interest in him, Mama!”
“Then choose someone else—take Chance Spencer if he ever returns. But in the meantime, you will accompany me to the De Grays’ house and spend the rest of the season there.”
“Who will take care of the estate affairs while we’re gone?”
“You can do it from London. We’ll find a way.”
“Mama, this is impractical, inconvenient—”
“For once I want you to be young and irresponsible,” Elizabeth said in determination. “You’ve been robbed of so many precious years! For a few months I want you to have what you should have had, if only your father wasn’t—”
“Please don’t talk about Papa,” Lidian said, her obstinacy fading. Dispiritedly she sat in the chair before the desk and surveyed the piles of work there. “Let’s not argue about this, Mama. Won’t you just accept that I don’t want anyone if I can’t have Chance?”
“Accept that my only daughter will have no husband, no children, no home of her own, all because of a scoundrel who made false promises to her? Never!” She went to Lidian and stood over her, staring at her with love and purpose. “Come with me to the De Grays’ estate. I’ll never ask another thing of you, darling. Do it for my sake, to ease my worry over you. Please don’t refuse me, Lidian.”
De Gray House was located on Upper Grosvenor Street, bordering Hyde Park in a thick grove of plane trees. The classically designed house was fronted with towering Doric columns and rows of Palladian windows that made every room airy and bright. Inside, the main hall contained a sweeping double staircase that led to the second and third floors. White and ice-blue walls were adorned with burned-gold swags and moldings, and sumptuous paintings in ornate frames. Before Lidian could fully absorb the grandeur of the place, the Countess De Gray appear
ed to welcome them.
The countess embraced Elizabeth first while Lidian stood back shyly and watched them. Julia, as Elizabeth called her, was a slender and beautiful woman with the same silvery-blond hair as Dollie. “My goodness, Lizzie,” she exclaimed, “you haven’t changed a bit in the last ten years!”
“Oh, I’ve changed,” Elizabeth replied wryly, surveying her own voluptuous figure. “But you, dear Julia…you’re as willowy as ever. How can I ever forgive you?”
Julia laughed and turned to face Lidian. “Lizzie, what a beauty your daughter is! She favors you, but I can see a little of John in her as well.” She walked forward and put her arms around Lidian, hugging her in a flurry of silk and delicate perfume. “I’m so pleased you’ve come to stay with us, my dear,” she murmured. “Both of my children have taken such a liking to you.”
Lidian flushed, not knowing how to reply.
“Lidian!” Suddenly Dollie appeared in a flurry of golden curls, her delicate face glowing. “You’re finally here! Come, I’ll tour you around the house while the maids unpack your things.”
Just then someone else appeared, a tall man with dark hair, who seemed to be in his mid-forties. He came from the first floor hallway, pausing on his way to the grand staircase as he saw them. There were liberal touches of silver at his temples and a scowl on his lean face. He would have been a handsome man, if not for the bracket of lines around his mouth that betrayed a keen cynicism and disappointment with life. “Who the hell are you?” he muttered upon seeing the new arrivals.
Flushing in embarrassment, Julia hastened to smooth over the awkward moment. “Garrett,” she said lightly, “these are the guests I mentioned to you before—my dear friend Lady Acland and her daughter Lidian.”
His gaze swept over them without much interest, lingering for an extra moment on Elizabeth. Then he grumbled a surly greeting and continued on his way.
Julia winced slightly. “You must forgive my brother-in-law Garrett,” she remarked once he was out of hearing. “He’s usually more civil than that.”
“I should hope so,” Elizabeth said crisply, shaking her head in disapproval.
Dollie giggled and led Lidian upstairs while Julia took Elizabeth into the parlor. “I must apologize for Garrett,” Julia confided, as they seated themselves on French chairs with delicate curved legs. “He was always charming and agreeable until two years ago, when his wife Audrey died of an unexpected fever. He loved her quite desperately. Losing her was a devastating blow. After the funeral, Edgar and I invited him to stay with us for as long as he wants. He seems to take some small comfort in being with his family, but he’s an intensely private man. Much of the time we hardly know he’s here.” She shrugged gracefully, her mouth touched with sadness. “I doubt Garrett will remarry. Since Audrey’s passing he’s shown no interest in women—respectable ones, that is.”
“Are there any children?”
Julia shook her head. “I’m afraid they were never blessed with children. But Garrett never seemed to care about that as long as he had Audrey. Now he has no one.”
Elizabeth felt slightly more sympathetic toward the man, despite his incivility. “It is difficult to grow old without a life’s companion,” she remarked. “At least I have the comfort of my daughter.”
“Will you ever remarry, Lizzie?”
“Heavens, no!” Elizabeth smiled at the notion. “John was quite irreplaceable. If only I could see Lidian happily married, I would be content to spend the rest of my life with my grandchildren about me.”
“But you’re still youthful and attractive!” Julia exclaimed. “You could easily find another husband. I know some distinguished men of suitable age and situations—”
“No, no,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “All I want is to find a husband for Lidian. I have no intention of seeking any suitors for myself.”
“You sound as stubborn as Garrett! It appears I must focus all my matchmaking efforts on Lidian.”
As Lidian and Dollie ascended the stairs, Lidian glanced at their surroundings with a touch of uneasiness, half-afraid that Eric De Gray might suddenly appear. “Dollie,” she asked warily, “does your brother live here with the rest of the family?”
“Eric? No, he resides in a town house near Pall Mall.” Dollie smiled slyly as she added, “Now that you’re staying with us, I suspect he’ll visit more frequently.”
A frown crossed Lidian’s face. “Oh.”
Dollie threw her a perplexed glance. “You seem dismayed. Well, I thought every woman in the world had aspirations to catch my brother!”
“Your brother is attractive,” Lidian admitted, in the most objective tone possible. “However, I’m already in love with someone.”
“Are you?” Dollie made a face. “That’s too bad. I would like Eric to marry a girl like you someday. Someone kind and natural and unstuffy. Most women put on such airs around him.” Dollie paused and added proudly, “He’s the catch of the season, you know.”
After a long, enjoyable talk with Julia, Elizabeth went to change from her traveling clothes into a blue day dress. It was a relief to stay at the home of an old friend, gaining a brief respite from the daily worries that she and Lidian usually faced. And this visit would be good for Lidian, if only to broaden her experience and show her some of the possibilities life could offer.
Elizabeth went toward the great staircase that led downstairs, but stopped at a large gold-framed mirror that adorned the end of the hall. Seeing that a few wisps of her hair had escaped their pins, she reached up to smooth them. She preferred everything about her appearance to be neat and controlled, never a hair out of a place or a spot on her clothes. The sound of footsteps was muffled by the Aubusson carpet, and she didn’t hear a man approaching until he had almost reached her.
Embarrassed at having been caught primping, Elizabeth turned to face him with a guilty smile. However, her smile faded rapidly as she saw that the intruder was Garrett De Gray. His black eyes simmered with discontent, and his mouth had a hard, sullen cast. He looked untidy, as if he had just arisen from bed and dressed too hastily. She could detect the smell of brandy about him—and it was only the middle of the day!
“Lord De Gray,” she said crisply, drawing herself up to her full height of five feet, three inches.
“Lady Acland,” he said thickly. “If houseguests must be tolerated, I suppose you’ll do.”
“I beg your pardon?” Elizabeth said in astonishment. She would have felt sympathy for any other man in his situation, but this insolent creature hardly merited such kind regard.
He responded with a shameless glance up and down her body. “As plump and tidy as a little hen. Widowed in your prime…truly a waste. You may visit me at my rooms in the east wing if you’re in need of companionship.”
“Why, you rude man!” Elizabeth exclaimed, flushing in surprise. “No one has ever addressed me so disrespectfully—and coming from Edgar’s brother—”
“Edgar and I are nothing alike, thank God. He’s burdened with the proprieties and standards I never bothered living up to.”
“You would do well to imitate him,” she said frostily, and continued past him toward the stairs.
“Would I?” Garrett asked, and laughed nastily while she hurried away from him. “The east wing, madam. Don’t forget.”
3
Eric tapped a restless rhythm on the inside wall of his carriage. Suddenly his fingertips stilled on the embossed leather, and his hand clenched into a tight fist. He was exasperated with himself for not being able to stop thinking about Lidian Acland. Perhaps it was because she had shown such determined indifference to him—he had never been able to resist a challenge. The memory of the kiss at the Willoughbys’ ball still haunted him. Her mouth had been so soft beneath his, yielding sweetly to his urgent pressure. He wanted more, had wanted it every minute since that night three weeks ago.
After considering various plans to see Lidian again, he had asked his mother to invite the Aclands for an extended vis
it. She had complied without hesitation and had written to him that the Aclands were now comfortably settled at De Gray House. Such a lovely girl, his mother had written in her elegant script. Lidian is shy but very sweet. I am tempted to offer her some of my gowns, or Dollie’s, as it appears that she and Elizabeth have brought painfully few clothes and possessions with them. However, they are both proud, and I wouldn’t dare risk offending either of them. Call on us soon, my dear…
Eric intended to. He wanted to find out if the attraction between him and Lidian was as strong as he remembered. And if so…there was the problem of cutting through the illusions that made her cling so stubbornly to her past love. No man worthy of her would have left her, had there been any choice. To find out more about Spencer, Eric had decided to pay a visit to Craven’s, the gambling club on St. James Street.
As a member of the club, Eric occasionally enjoyed trying his hand at the gaming tables and socializing with friends…but that wasn’t his purpose tonight. Craven’s was the best place he knew of to obtain information. The proprietor, Derek Craven, was acquainted with everyone of significance in England and Europe, no mean accomplishment for a cockney who had been born in the gutter. Craven had established the finest gambling club in the world, and he knew exactly how to supply what his patrons wanted. It was rumored that he had every man of means in London investigated, so that he knew all about their inheritances, bank accounts, and property holdings.
Eric’s carriage stopped in front of the building, a marble structure fronted with massive columns and pediments. It was part Grecian temple, part bawdy house. There were several forms of entertainment offered at Craven’s, including exquisite French cuisine, fine wine and liquor, billiards and cigars, lively music and beautiful house wenches. All of this was intended to stimulate the appetite of the patrons for one thing: gambling. Unimaginable amounts of money were spent nightly at the hazard tables and in the card rooms.
Ascending the wide steps and nodding to the butler, Eric entered the club. Foreign diplomats, aristocrats, politicians, and businessmen all mingled in the famed central gaming room, lined in gilded columns and swaths of dark blue velvet. The room was octagonally shaped and topped with a domed ceiling. Seeing Derek Craven’s slim, dark form at the central hazard table, Eric went to join him. Craven greeted him with a friendliness reserved for his wealthy patrons and motioned for an employee to bring Eric a drink.
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